Sweet Dreams from Gallifrey
by jammywho
Summary: On Trenzalore, the Doctor's getting old protecting the peace. Then Rassilon pops by for a chat. There's a bit in the middle that's a bit weird- that's part of a prompt. Hope you Enjoy!


The Doctor ached back in his chair. He could feel the cool leather against the back of his head. New, he thought. He lifted his arm to his hair and pulled it taut. He'd been meaning to get his hair cut, of course he had, but he'd been so busy with defending Christmas and Trenzalore and building toys in the workshop. What he hadn't expected was quite how long it was now. And how thin. And how white. He chuckled, his laugh not quite what it was as it raked up his throat.

 _I'm old_ , he thought, and then, _of course I'm old. I'm two thousand years old_. _I feel my age all the time. But gosh, I've never looked old. Not this old._

It was then that he walked in. Rassilon. Somewhat dressed down- no robes of office no staff, no gauntlet. And certainly with none of the weapons of mass destruction that bore his name. And yet, he walked with an air of power. He was the First Time Lord, after all; he'd earned it.

"Doctor."

The Doctor didn't get up.

"Rassilon. How did you get here? Shouldn't you be in your little bubble?"

"Your Time Lock? I found a way around that."

"Oh yeah? How?"

Rassilon smirked. "Time Travel has always been possible in dreams."

The Doctor peeked over the top of his armchair. This wasn't Trenzalore. It looked like a stately office. A President's Office. A dream.

"Must've fallen asleep without realising it."

"The troubles of age."

"What about you? You're looking pretty spry for a million-year old."

"Yes, this body's maybe fifty sol-cycles old by human standards." There was a certain disgust in his voice at the word human. At a sharp glance from the Doctor, he changed his tone. "But it suits my needs."

"What needs are those, exactly?"

"Running Gallifrey, of course. It's stressful work, I don't mind telling you. I'd take a break, but then, we can't all go traipsing around the universe whenever we want. Some of us have to stay and be responsible."

"Well, look at me now. I'm staying. I'm being responsible. The people of this planet are caught in a crossfire and I have to help them."

"And they take priority over your own people? The people you trapped in a pocket dimension? The people you froze in time for an eternity?"

"At least you're not dead. You're welcome by the way." He said pointedly. "Anyway, how are you here if everyone's frozen?"

"Being the ruler of a race who can shape time to their will has its advantages. And you're dodging the question, I see."

"You know I can't let Gallifrey out. There'll be a War. A big one. I'm not doing that again. No-one should."

"I understand."

"You do?"

"Of course. Same reason you didn't let us return last time." He sighed. "I don't want a War, Doctor. I just want my people to survive. But such is the world we live in. Sometimes it seems like the only way for us to be safe is to get rid of everyone else. You were President once, I gather. You know you need to put your people first."

"Rassi, the Time Lords are my people, but that doesn't mean their life is worth more than anyone else's."

"We've built galaxies. We mastered time travel. We conquered death."

"And the Trenzalorians just got instant coffee right."

"It doesn't compare"

"It doesn't have to. But the people do. Believe me, I'd love to have everyone back. But when I first left Gallifrey, you know what I realised? There's so much more out there. So many different ways of looking up at the stars and so many ways of reading them. I'd love to be so sure that the Time Lords should be the first ones in the lifeboat, but I've seen the universe now. I've seen so much. Too much. Now there are so many sides and I just can't do right by all of them."

"I see. And I can't convince you otherwise?"

"Sorry."

"Naturally, I can't exactly threaten you. Right now all I am is a part of your dream. The worst I can do is wake you up."

"Yum yum. More coffee for me."

"So all I can do really is ask you for a favour…"

"I'm doing about a thousand favours for everyone else right now."

"Can you do something about my back? I've got this twinge just beneath my left shoulder. It's been there forever. Every single regeneration. I know it's not exactly stately of me, but I think we're past politics now."

"Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage."

"Would you?"

"Well… I'll give it a go. I suppose I am a Doctor."

He strained out of his chair and hobbled across to where Rassilon was sitting.

"So you're calling yourself the Doctor again, I see?" said Rassilon, taking off his coat to expose his back.

"Yeah. I made myself a promise."

"I respect that. But there's a reason I never took a name, Doctor. I could have done. The Creator, The First, The Architect. But I never did. A name has to stand for something. And you and me, Doctor- we're not exactly forged from the same star. I mean we- OW!"

"Sorry!"

"We don't share- Bloody Hell!"

"Whoops. Wrong nerve."

"You're all elbows. Ow! Have you ever actually done this before?"

"Well, once." He thought back "though River didn't actually enjoy it either."

"Let's stop now, shall we? I'm President of a doomed planet. I don't need to be tenser."

"Sorry."

"Doctor, you are a terrible masseuse. But you are a good man. You know what I've learned? After thousands of years and hundreds of regenerations? The aches in your body; they're temporary. The aches in here?" He pointed two fingers at his chest. "They're forever."

The Doctor nodded. "I know."

"I know you do." Rassilon sighed. "And you'll probably wake up any second now. So I'll try to make this quick. Do you know how I found you? How I found my way into your dreams? I followed the psychic residue all the way out here. You're dreaming about us, Doctor. Every night. You come home to visit us every time you close your eyes. And it was enough to guide me here."

"Yeah, well…" he looked down "I miss the place."

"I bet you do." Rassilon's lips twitched into something that could have been a smile. "We're in your hearts and in your hands, Doctor. Don't forget that."

And just like that, he was awake again, in his toymaking workshop on Trenzalore. Alone. He put his head in his hands and felt the wrinkles on his face. Next to him was a cup of coffee his assistant had left for him. He took a sip. Rassilon was right.

It didn't compare.


End file.
